In April, 2010, when Andrew was 2 1/2, a tumor was discovered behind his eye. The tumor was removed, but it was found to be an aggressive cancer. He endured seven months of chemo and six weeks radiation. In December of 2010, the day after his last treatment, he was rushed to the ER with an almost fatal bacterial infection. He survived.

He is now seven-years-old!! I don't visit here much, because during the ordeal, this is where I dumped everything--my rage, my fear, my sadness, my ugly, my hope, my everything. But I want all of you who supported and prayed for us to hear his updates. You helped me survive, and I am deeply thankful. Every once in awhile, I will check in to let you know how he's doing. Please continue to pray that cancer will never return to his body. Thank you.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Keeping Up Appearances

I thought I had put some of my perfectionistic tendencies behind me, you know, the need to look like I have it altogether even when I don't...and I have improved, to a great degree.  But here I am, back in a school setting (dropping off and picking up my children, does that count?) and I find myself once again trying to make a good show for the teachers.  But alas, the facade is quite thin, and I am afraid my raw, unorganized self is completely apparent :). 

Picture day:  Well, to start off, I completely forgot about it.  As I am getting out of the car and noticing all of the cutely dressed children, the realization hits me.  Of course, I have no order form and no money.  I glance over at Sammy.  He is wearing a red, white and blue hand-me down T-shirt and some ratty gray and white soccer shorts (his favorites).  He had dressed himself of course, and  I had paid little attention while I was scrambling to brush my teeth and get out the door. I suppose, if circumstances had been slightly different, this would have been okay.  He may have been pitied by all the fashion-conscious mothers who bought the class picture, but otherwise, no harm done. 

However, Sammy had found a chocolate candy in the car and had used his shirt for a napkin.  Chocolate smeared ALL over his clothes. I consider what to do... wet wipes? won't work.  Water? won't dry fast enough.  So, thinking quickly, I  swap shirts with Andrew.  Okay, so Andrew wears 2T and Sammy wears 4T...  "Too tight" has got to be better than "covered in chocolate," right? at least a little?   Now Sammy is wearing a too small red and blue shirt with ratty gray and white soccer shorts.  Not much better.  

I run with him to the preschool door, huffing and puffing,  apologize for being so unorganized, and say that I will be right back.  I was hoping for a compassionate smile, but I only got a "get it together, lady" glare. "We are the first class to get pictures this morning, so hurry" she says.  So I hurry.  I come back to my car, and find my trunk WIDE OPEN.   I guess I left it open in my panicked rush.  I slam it, get in my car and start driving.  Yelling at the "slow" drivers in front of me, and traumatizing Andrew in the back seat with my impatience, I finally make it back to the classroom. I grab Sammy out of class, strip him down outside his classroom door, and replace his hand-picked, too tight clothes with a cute plaid button down and some khaki shorts. I push him through the door, and he quickly rejoins circle time. Whew.

A new resolution to be more organized.  I can do it!  I can do it!  The next school day:

His school bag:  The preschool has given each child a special bag in which they are supposed to carry their lunch box and all of their paperwork.  Every morning, each child hangs their bag on a hook outside the classroom.  Somehow, Sammy's ended up in the dirty laundry basket, so I washed it.  This morning when I dropped Sammy off, I hung up his bag.  It is not hard to miss.  Fifteen neatly hung bags, and right near the end is Sammy's.  Two sizes smaller and a complete wrinkled mess.... 

Someday I'll show them what an organized, "with it," mom I am.  Someday....
Yeah, probably not.

1 comment:

  1. Oh my. You know, I used to look up to you... and now this? Okay, seriously. It's good to know you're normal. You fit in with the rest of us who don't pretend that everything is perfect. You know how hard it is and how exhausting? Whew! So glad I don't bother. But hey, you've got three times the wild things that I have, so I should be more organized and whatnot, theoretically speaking. Oh well. Just as long he's happy, right? =)


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